Intuition doesn't tell you what you want to hear; it tells you what you need to hear. - Sonia Choquette
He should have listened. He shouldn't have ignored it. It never worked out well when he ignored it. But what else could he do?
He'd gotten out of the habit. When had that happened? When had he started believing the things the guys said about him? Started thinking the jokes weren't really jokes. Thinking he was the only one who messed up. When had he decided he wasn't good enough? When had he become a screw-up?
He should have seen it coming. Hell, he did see it coming. But he ignored it. Believed the guys when they said he was over-reacting. A drama queen.
He should have realized. Now it was too late.
He shuffled slowly out to the patio and gingerly sat down. It was warm there, even though the sky was overcast. It was also quiet. He saw a couple Ables strolling along the fenceline. They weren't really needed here and they knew it. Face could barely get from one room to another on his own, let alone sneaking off the grounds. The team were on their second mission after the shooting, wouldn't be back for another couple of days. He had no doubt it would be just as successful as that first one had been. More proof that he was just an unnecessary component now.
What was it Hannibal had said, way back in Italy...
"Now, Face - if we had endless amounts of money at our disposal and could do whatever we want, whenever we wanted, we wouldn't really need you, would we?"
Still couldn't do the whatever and whenever, but with Stockwell bankrolling everything, providing everything...
Maybe it was his fault. He had tried to leave, after all. Hannibal told him afterward that he'd known Face was just letting off steam, that he never would have really left. Hannibal didn't know how close it had been. Didn't know where the frustration actually came from.
Like Murdock. Face would have to be blind not to see that Hannibal was using the pilot more and more often, had him doing things that Face used to do. Not even bothering to make up an excuse anymore. Hell, sometimes it was like they thought he was as inept as Frankie. Frankie - who now seemed to be best buds with everyone. No - everyone else. The days of double dates had ended some time ago. Frankie didn't need Face to find girls. Not anymore.
It would be another month - or more - before he'd be cleared for light duty. Weeks more before he could carry a full load again. If ever. He really wished Hannibal had been around to talk to after yesterday's doctor appointment.
Then again, maybe it was just as well.
He shook his head. He didn't want to go down the 'poor me' road. He needed to stay objective. Remember this started long before Stockwell...
Sighing, he carefully pushed himself up from the chair and moved back inside. His shrink said he should write things down to help clear his thoughts. At least that would fill the time. Things were more real when you wrote them down. Reality was what he needed now.
Maybe, if he really worked at it, he would see he was still the man he used to be. Not a screw-up. Not useless. The man he was before he started believing what they said. Before he forgot just how good he really was. Maybe it wasn't too late after all.
Maybe he'd be ready when those pardons came through.